It was some time before Gwen broke the ensuing silence. ‘I’ll kill it,’ she said, her voice low but determined. ‘The sea monster.’
‘Didn’t we just say—’ began Orson.
Gwen kept going, right over the top of him. ‘Tabitha said that every time he raises the dead, it weakens him. So if I kill the sea monster, and he has to raise it again, that’ll weaken him. And then I’ll kill it again.’ She looked around the table, meeting each of their eyes in turn. ‘Andagain, if I have to. Until there’s no more strength left in him. We promised her we’d find a way to save her. This is the only one I see.’
Nobody spoke. Again, there was complete silence, but this time it was of Gwen’s making. Her words rippled out and passed through the group, pinning everyone to their chairs.
Even Isobelle, who had not a doubt in the world that Gwen could prevail against an army, was pausing for thought at the idea of killing a sea monsterthreemore times.
No!she wanted to cry.Stay here, where it’s safe!
But Tabitha was trapped. And Gwen herself was under a spell – the necromancer’s spell, Isobelle realised grimly – which would surely get worse, the longer he was allowed to continue it. The town itself was under his curse. Andfor once, Isobelle’s clever brain could see no other way out of the situation, except for the one that made her feel like she’d swallowed a stone.
Then Gwen’s gaze flicked across to her, and she knew what was called for. What Gwen needed. She straightened her back, and lifted her chin.
‘That’s exactly what Gwen will do,’ she agreed, pushing every piece of certainty she possessed into her tone. ‘Tabitha trusts us, and we won’t let her down.’
Later, Hilde hustled Gwen off to introduce her to a basin of hot water before she fell into bed, and Jane escorted Isobelle to her rooms, with Rosamund the innkeeper watching them all the way out of sight, wide-eyed and wary. They left Sylvie and Orson behind at the breakfast table, still speaking in low voices.
‘I think we can mend most of this,’ Jane said, and for a dizzying moment, Isobelle thought she was talking about … about everything. About the fault lines that had appeared between her and Gwen … the nightmares, the hidden letter. The magical ritual that had failed because of the secrets they were keeping. The tension that sang between them even after they had done their best to make up with each other. About Tabitha, with her pale face and her scream of terror, trapped up in the tower with a man who could raise the dead.
And about Gwen, wrapped up in a spell cast by that same necromancer. Would slaying the sea monster weaken his grip on her, too?
‘Do you really think it can be mended?’ she murmured.
‘Certainly,’ said Jane. ‘The silk’s actually barely torn, it’s just the seam that’s come apart.’
‘Oh,’ said Isobelle. ‘Of course. The dress.’
Jane fixed her with a long look. ‘Into bed,’ she said firmly. ‘No matter what has to be done, you’ve been up all night. You’ll be no use to anyone if you drop where you stand.’
So Isobelle let Jane usher her into bed and pull the covers up, tucking her in as though she were a small child. It was comforting. It made her miss Olivia – Olivia, who had so many questions to answer now, but was so very far away.
As she drifted towards sleep, Tabitha’s voice returned to her, though, dancing at the edge of her coming dreams.
You have to go, she had said.Gwen, youhave to go.
Isobelle knew she hadn’t mistaken that emphasis. Tabitha knew about the spell that had ensnared Gwen. She knew what danger Gwen faced.
How was Isobelle to free her from it?
‘Sleep,’ said Jane, stroking her hair back from her forehead. ‘Just for a little while.’
And Isobelle did.
The sun was streaming through her windows when someone laid a hand on her shoulder. Isobelle made a grumbling noise, rolling onto her front and burying her face in her pillow.
‘Stop that,’ said Sylvie’s voice. ‘And get up.’
Isobelle made a noise that indicated that she disagreed with the proposed course of action, and tried pulling a second pillow over the back of her head. Memories were creeping in, though, and dragging her back towards consciousness. Tabitha’s face, drawn and afraid. Gwen’s jaw squared, as she swore to fight the sea monster over and over again.
Sylvie confiscated all the pillows one by one, tossing them across the room. ‘There’s a … well, there’s a group of people outside the tavern,’ she said. ‘And if they’re not a mob, they’re certainly trending in that direction, and it’s making Jane and Hilde nervous. I suggest you brush your hair and go talk to them. They’re demanding the Lady Dragonslayer, and just now I’m not sure you want Gwen to face them alone.’
It turned out Sylvie was right. A sleepy Gwen had been summoned as well, and when the pair of them made their way through the tavern’s front door, at least two dozen people burst into speech all at once. Isobelle immediately wished she had paused for a cup of tea before dealing with whatever this was.
‘Please,’ she called, raising her hands. ‘One at a time.If you wish to express a concern, I can’t possibly hear you all at once.’
Every member of the crowd most decidedly did have concerns to express, and they all attempted to do so at once.
